Broken
by F-kingWinchesters
Summary: Dean, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you did not murder your brother, Samuel Winchester?" Dean raised his head, green eyes meeting brown ones, and took a deep breath. "I did not murder my little brother."
1. Chapter 1

_**Seven Months Ago:**_

"_Listen, I already told you, that's all I know." Dean reached up to swipe his hand through his hair but was stopped short by the handcuffs keeping him changed to the table._

"_Just because I can't remember what happened to my brother doesn't mean I did it! My brother just died for Christ's sake and you pull me into this fucking room for questioning?" He slumped back in his chair, frustrated. _

_A red-haired woman dressed in a well-fitted charcoal business suit eyed him carefully, she took slow precise strides across the room until she stood behind him, running her hand from his chest to his shoulder. He shrugged it off in disdain, "Don't you fucking touch me." He spat._

"_Dean, is it?" She practically hummed next to his ear, trailing her bright red nails through his hair. Dean rolled his eyes, he was getting annoyed at all the stupid questions being thrown his way. "Dean, we have you here because you were covered in your brother's blood. We also have a witness who says they saw you murder Sam, brutally with a bat." She tightened her fist into Dean's hair jerking his head backward as she spat out the words. "and that is why you are here in this fucking room." She let go of his hair, pushing his head forward violently._

"_That is NOT true! We were attacked by some nutjob!" Dean nearly jumped out of his seat but was pulled back by the chains. He tried thinking back, that was what happened, wasn't it?_

_A taller man who had been leaning against the wall in the back of the room stepped forward. He leaned down over the table to look him in the eyes directly. "Dean, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you did not murder your brother, Samuel Winchester?" Dean raised his head, green eyes meeting brown ones, and took a deep breath._

"_I did not murder my little brother."_

_**Present:**_

Dean stares up at the ceiling, squinting in the florescent lighting, with his hands folded behind his head. His eyes trail across the sterile white room, at the sound of the door opening slowly. It was the petite red-haired nurse he had gotten to know over the past few months, Charlie. He had liked Charlie, she was sweet and a little nerdy, but Dean had decided that if they had met under other circumstances they could have been friends. She was one of only three people he had interacted with since his time here began. There was his Doctor, Dr. Singer, and another nurse, Gabriel, who was here when Charlie was off.

"Hello Dean, how're you doing today?" She smiled at him and sat down in the chair, which was bolted to the floor, near his bed.

"I'm better, Charlie, Thanks." He looked on expectantly, he knew what today was. But when she didn't reply he spoke again. "Do I actually get to move today?"

"Yes! Dr. Singer said you're ready for human interaction, but you'll have to be supervised of course. There'll be a guard assigned to you, just in case you have another…episode." Dean hated that word, he'd heard it so many times since his arrival, it was like everyone was waiting for him to have a total meltdown. Yeah, Dean hated it here and thought about escaping several times, they kept making him talk about the night Sam died. But he thought that maybe talking about it would help him remember, and maybe cope with being in such a shitty place.

Charlie cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, "I'm happy you're feeling better, Dean. You've made good progress since you've been here. I'll go ahead and do my regular check-up, then we'll work on getting your things moved over to room 110." She smiled and began her work.

He had gotten to know Charlie a little over the past few months, she'd been his nurse since his arrival after the trail. He'd been convinced by his lawyer to pled insanity, he thought it would have been better than prison, and everyone was already convinced he killed his brother the moment he stepped foot in the courtroom anyway. Dean couldn't remember what really happened that night, but he did know he'd never hurt Sam, he'd been watching out for him his entire life, since their parents died in the house fire.

"All done." Charlie spoke, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. She placed her things back on the small cart she had wheeled in with her. "Ready to go?"

"I'm ready to get the hell out of here, that's for damn sure!" He jumped from his cot.

Dean set his bag on his new bed, it was slightly smaller than the last one but the room was a lot bigger. The walls were a faded blue color, which was infinitely better than the white of previous ones. "Well Dean, as always, it's been a pleasure." She smiled and gave a slight bow forward.

As she turned to walk away Dean grabbed her by the wrist. "Wait a second." She turned around to face him, looking slightly alarmed. "Will you still be my nurse? I don't know if I want anyone else. I, uh, I trust you. You've been here since day one." She relaxed and tilted her head.

"Of course I will, loser." She pushed his shoulder playfully. "You are still in my hallway." Dean laughed a little and quickly planted a kiss on her cheek, thanking her. "Well, uh, I, I'll be going now." She said as she pointed her thumbs over her shoulder in the direction of the door while backing away.

Dean chuckled as he sat on his bed, making it groan under his weight. He leaned forward, and looked around the room. On the other side was a bed identical to his own, only the sheets on that one was messy. He wondered who his roommate would be, he hoped whoever it was that they could get along with each other, and the other man wouldn't be too crazy.

His thoughts were cut short when man in grey pajama bottoms and white cotton t-shirt walked in the room. Dean instantly held his breath and tried not to stare at the other man, but he was absolutely stunning. His hair was black and cut short, and styled in that deliberately messy sort of way. His features were soft, and yet somehow firm. The stubble on his face made Dean wonder how it would feel for it to run across his neck. But what really grabbed his attention was the alarming shade of blue of his eyes. They were so blue it would make the autumn sky feel ashamed.

The other man walked to his side of the room and promptly began to make the bed before sitting on the edge of it. "Hello. I am Castiel. I apologize for my side of the room being so unacceptable for your arrival." Dean nearly laughed at how proper his behavior was, instead he walked toward him and extended his arm for a handshake.

"Dean Winchester." Castiel took his hand hesitantly, his grip was loose and sweaty. Dean thought that maybe he was just nervous, so he pulled a chair over from the desk that sat between the two beds and sat in front of him. "So Castiel, got a last name?"

Castiel shifted in his seat on the bed. "I prefer to only use my first name. I don't identify well with my last, so I got rid of it." Dean nodded his head as if he understood, but really he didn't.

"Well, Castiel is a bit of a mouthful, mind if I call you Cas?" The man looked shocked at the notion, but nodded anyway. "So, Cas… Would it be too much to ask what you're in here for? You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, it's just that you're the first person I've met other than staff in the last four months." He cocked his head to the left slightly and squinted his eyes.

"I'd… rather not speak of it." Dean nodded in understanding, it must be pretty personal. He began to ask another question, in an attempt to get to know his roommate a little better, but was interrupted by the door opening.

"It time for lunch, guys" Came a voice from the hall. Castiel stood and walked mechanically to the door. Dean followed suit, he wasn't sure where he was going, he'd been stuck in that small room since his first day and had all his meals brought to him. If he did leave his room to go anywhere it was with an escort. He followed Cas all the way to the dining hall, an immense room littered with small round tables, and sat down next to him at a table in the back of the room away from the other residents.

"Are you alright, man?" Dean asked after seeing how Castiel was fidgeting with the end of his t-shirt. He jerked his head up in surprise as if Dean had somehow snuck up on him. He cleared his throat as if to speak, but opted to take a drink from the small plastic water bottle that was already sitting in front of him.

After a moment a man dressed in black scrubs appeared next to them, wheeling a food cart in front of him. He placed two trays on the table and wheeled the cart to the next table. Dean unwrapped his plastic fork from a napkin and looked down at his food; grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Not bad, but the usual Monday. He lifted a small container from the corner of the tray and lifted the lid to take a peak in it: Apple Pie. Hell yeah! Maybe things were starting to look up for him after all. Dean began eating quickly, eager to get to the dessert.

As he was finishing the last of crumbs sitting in the bottom of the dessert cup Dean glanced over at Castiel, who took his napkin from his lap and placed it on his tray as he stood. "Will you be accompanying me back to our room?"

Dean nodded and took one last long drink from his own water and followed Castiel out of the dining hall. He still didn't know exactly where he was in relation to his room. He didn't know where anything was for that matter, the place was like a maze to him. They made their way through the halls, walking in long, determined strides. Cas expertly avoided everyone they met, never slowing down his pace.

He opened the door and moved to the side, allowing Dean to enter first. "Cas, man, is everything okay? I just noticed you've been a little skittish." He nodded, seeming to relax a little. "I get that you don't want to talk about why you're here. You're a private person, I can respect that, but if something got you agitated you can talk to me about it. Or we can talk about something else, get your mind off what's bugging you."

Castiel laid back on his bed, back resting against the wall behind it. He was visibly relaxed now, no longer sitting up completely straight with perfect posture, no fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. Dean found his behavior slightly confusing, but remembered where he was at and thought that as far as roommates go here, it could have been a lot worse.

"Dean, I experience social anxiety. I cannot function properly in groups of people. I have made good progress since being here, before my arrival my social phobia had prevented me from almost all sort of social interaction. But now I seem to get along fine with one or two people, maybe three, but any more than that and I start to feel anxious."

Dean placed his hands on his to keep him from fidgeting again, but Castiel instantly pulled away. Dean frowned at the instant lack of contact, he was craving human contact since being isolated for so long, and Cas was, well, perfect. He must of read the hurt on Dean's face when he looked back up. "I apologize, Dean, I just need a moment to calm down."

"Hey, no, you don't have to apologize, I totally get it. I'm just gonna go lay down for a bit before my session at four." Dean stood and put the chair back in its proper place and got into his bed, facing the wall. He laid there awake thinking about his new roommate, thinking of how awful it must be not able to connect with another person. He wondered what he possibly could have done to land him in this place.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Sam?!" Dean ran toward his brother's body lying on the hard wood floor, bleeding out at an alarming rate. He knelt down next to him, picking his upper body up and cradling him next to his chest. "Sammy! Son of a bitch! Talk to me, Sam. Come on!" He held his brother's head up to keep it from falling to the side at an awkward angle. "Dammit Sammy…"_

_Sam coughed hard, dotting his lower lip with specks of blood. "Dean? Dean… What the hell?"_

_Dean shifted on his knees, looking toward his brother with a mixture of relief that he was still alive, and confusion._

"_Why-?" Sam continued but was stopped short when his body began to convulse violently in Dean's arms._

"_Sam?" Dean breathed out hard. "Sam! Dammit, Sammy! No!" Dean rested his forehead against his little brothers after he had gone still. Tears falling from his face to mix with the blood covering Sam's. "For fucks sake, Sammy…. I was supposed to watch out for you, you shouldn't have died." Dean voice grew quiet._

"Dean?" Dean startled awake, drenched in sweat. "Dean, are you alright?" Cas looked at him, tilting his head slightly to the left. Dean looked around the room in a panic, he realized he was back in the hospital. He took a few deep calming breaths, something he had learned from the doctors since his time here. "You were screaming, I felt that I should wake you. I apologize if I frightened you." Cas placed his hand on his shoulders for reassurance.

"I was screaming?" Cas gave a short nod, blue eyes skimming over Dean's face as if looking for an answer to a question that hadn't been asked. "Cas, buddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I guess that's why I've been kept in solitary these four months. I freak people out. I'm a complete whack job." Dean sat up in bed, but was hit with a feeling of dizziness and laid immediately back down covering his eyes with the crook of his arm. "Shit."

"Dean, I hate to bother you but it is almost four. You have a session, don't you?" Cas' features softened a little. Dean nodded a little in response and tried sitting up slowly, taking Cas' offered hand. "Do you know where to go? I could take you there myself, it wouldn't be a problem."

Before he could respond Dean nearly fell back in bed again. It must have been the damn meds they had him on. Cas hooked one arm around his waist and pulled him back up as Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders to help steady himself. They stood there for a moment, allowing Dean to find his balance. Cas couldn't help but to steal a glance sideways at the man clinging to him.

"Sorry, man. I know you aren't comfortable with the whole social interaction thing." Dean coughed awkwardly and straightened himself out, feeling better.

"It's quite alright. I don't feel that way with you… That is to say, I'm completely comfortable with only one person, its groups I start to panic in." Cas gripped Dean's waist a little tighter and put his free hand over Deans that was wrapped securely around his shoulders.

Together they walked like that down the hall, moving slowly around the other residents until they came to a set of tall wooden doors. Cas let go of Deans hands and knocked softly, earning a "Come in" from the other side. He led Dean in and helped him to sit on a sizeable black leather sofa. Once he was sitting comfortably Dean leaned backwards recovering his eyes with his arm to keep the room from spinning.

"Castiel? What the hell is wrong with Winchester?" Dr. Singer rose from his chair and rushed to examine Dean.

Bobby Singer was an older man who looked more like a trucker than a doctor with his shaggy beard, Dean thought that maybe that was the reason they got along so well, he didn't look down on him or try to make him feel inferior because he was the patient and not a doctor.

"I'm fine really, just a little dizzy. I'll be alright." Dr. Singer looked to Cas for a better explanation as to why his patient needed to be practically carried into his office.

"He had a nightmare I believe. I woke him, and afterwards he had trouble standing on his own so I helped him to his session he had previously told me about." Cas looked to Dean and narrowed his eyes. "My apologies for the intrusion, Dr. Singer, I will see myself out." Cas turned on his heels and walked toward the mahogany doors.

"Castiel, Remember: I'd like for you to call me Bobby." Cas smiled at him and nodded politely turning back around and shutting the large doors behind him.

"That had to be the longest session of my life." Dean said around the last bites of his dinner. He was starving even though he had just had lunch a few hours previously and had finished everything on his tray. "He wanted to go over how I was adjusting being out here with other people." He glanced over to Castiel who was eating quietly, he was no longer twisting the end of his shirt and looked at least a little calmer than he did earlier, although he was still keeping his eyes downward toward his tray.

They finished the rest of their dinner together in silence and headed back toward their room, Dean was still getting use to finding his way through the hallways and kept close to Castiel. Once they reached their room Dean immediately went straight for his bed, he was left feeling pretty drained after his session and just wanted to get some sleep. He still felt the effects of the nightmare from earlier though and had a feeling that sleep wouldn't come to him anytime soon. He kept his eyes tightly shut as if that would somehow help to erase the memory. "Dean?" Cas whispered quietly, pulling him from his thoughts.

Dean opened his eyes and look toward Cas, he had moved a chair to Dean's bedside and was sitting there with his hands folded neatly in his lap. "You asked why I was here." He squirmed a little, obviously uncomfortable.

"Cas, If you don't want to talk about it, you don't ha—" Cas put his hand up to silence him. Dean sat up on the edge of his bed, keeping quiet to let him continue.

"Sorry, it's just that if I don't say it now, I won't say it at all. So, if you want to know just let me speak…. Please." He spoke hesitantly. "I have already told you about my social anxiety, but… On top of that I suffer from what my doctors have called 'Major Depressive Disorder.'" His voice started to waver but began speaking rapidly, trying to finish the sentence as fast as he could. " I… Tried to kill myself." He rolled his sleeve up slowly revealing several long white scars running from his wrist to the middle of his forearm. Dean reached out and lightly ran his finger over it. Cas closed his eye and let his head fall forward toward the floor. "When I was nineteen, my father found out I was attracted to, and on occasion, having relations with men. I was kicked out of the house, he disowned me and just left me to die on the streets. At first I thought that maybe I could regain my father's love, but I soon realized that it was hopeless… And began to understand that so was I." He took a shaky breath, "I deserved to be dead."

Dean let his hand slide into Cas' and looked up into his watery blue eyes. "Look at me, Cas." Cas slowly raised his gaze to Dean. "Nobody deserves to ever be in so much pain, especially not someone like you. We may have just met but you're a kind person, I can tell, and you don't meet people like that very often. You have helped me out so much; showing me around, helping me to my session when I couldn't even stand on my own. You're a beautiful person, Castiel. Please don't let anyone tell you different."

Castiel's face flushed and tears where now flowing freely down his face. Dean pulled him out of his chair and wrapped his arms around him. "You can beat these thoughts, Cas, I know you can. You are worth so much." Cas' body shook as he gripped the back of Dean's white cotton tshirt, the two stood this way until his tears began to dry.

"Dean? …. Thank you." Cas whispered into Dean's shoulder, as Dean stroked his hair.

"You don't need to thank me, I meant every word I said." Dean pulled back and looked into his puffy red-rimmed eyes. "You should get some sleep."

Cas headed toward the bathroom to wash his face, stopping at the door he turned back to Dean, who was already laying back in bed. He started to worry the end of his t-shirt again, "Dean?"

Dean grunted in response, lifting his arm up slightly to peek at Cas. "Maybe... If it isn't too bothersome, you can tell me why you're here tomorrow after breakfast? You are a… Puzzling person, I would like to know more about you."

Dean raised up on his elbow and thought for a moment, "Yeah, I'll tell you what happened. But I don't think you'll want to be my roommate anymore if I do. Just be sure you want to know before then." Cas finished washing his face and got into bed, facing the wall. Dean shuffled under his blankets, resting the back of his head on his arms, he began to drift off, hopefully to avoid the terrors.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came quickly and Dean found himself slowly waking with the sunlight streaming through the tall window between his and Castiel's beds. He shifted into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the clock on the table across from his bed, the red numbers glaring at him. '6:24' Dean groaned softly. "Why the hell am I awake?"

Cas shifted under his blankets, rolling onto his side back to the wall. Dean stopped breathing, afraid he had woken him. Cas' breathing evened out once again and Dean let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. He slowly pushed back his blankets, careful to stay quiet as possible, swung his legs off the side of his bed and made his way to their small bathroom. Dean began his morning routine, stopping to look at his tired reflection in the mirror.

Today was the day. The day he was going to tell Cas about why he was here. To tell him he 'murdered' his brother after his father had always told him 'take care of your brother, Dean.' His little brother who used to dress as Batman pretending he could fly, jumping off of the roof of the shed and breaking his arm. Dean shuddered at the memories melding together to make one horrific scene in his head. He opened the bathroom door and looked toward the clock. '6:46'

"Hey Cas?" Dean made his way over to Castiel's bed. "Cas?" he said, with his hand on Cas' shoulder. "Hey. There you are. Morning Sunshine!" Cas groaned asking for the time. "Nearly seven. You should get up or we'll miss breakfast. Did you even get any sleep last night? You look like hell." Cas moved out from under the blankets. Dean chuckled under his breath and Cas made his way to the bathroom. The grown man in front of him looked like a pissed off twelve year-old. Dean sat in the chair waiting on Cas.

Moments later Cas appeared in the bathroom doorway once more and look to Dean, freshly shaven, looking less pissed off. "Sorry I slept so late." Dean put his arm around Cas' shoulders, dismissing his apology, and led them to the cafeteria.

"So Cas, you wanted to know. Have you decided if that's what you really want?" Cas pulled the chair towards Dean's bed, eager to hear his story. "I guess that's a 'yes'." Dean took a deep breath, looking into Castiel's cobalt eyes, before looking away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Cas while he told him the reason he was here. It was shameful, even though he hadn't done anything wrong, but what if he decided, like everyone else, that Dean really did kill Sam? He shook his head quickly to put off the thoughts.

"My brother, Sam, Sammy. He... He was beaten to death with a bat. A fucking bat... I was brought here after four months on trial for murder." Dean chanced a look at Cas. His head was tilted slightly to the left as his eyes were scrunched. "They think I killed my brother." Castiel's eyes widened slightly.

"'They'? Who is 'they'?" Dean emitted a mirthless laugh.

"'They' is everyone. Even my lawyer. They all said I did it. They said someone saw me murder my own brother in a cold-blooded, alcohol-induced, rage." Dean's voice began to waver as he spoke. "He bled so much and I tried to help him. I called for help. I did everything I could. This fucking idiot, he... He knocked me out and when I woke up, he was running out the front door. All I really remember is holding my brother in my arms as he bled to death." His voice broke as he let a single tear escape and roll down his cheek.

Several minutes of silence passed between them, he still couldn't bare to look at Cas, before he finally broke the silence. "You think I'm crazy. Look, I'll go talk to Charlie or Dr. Singer or someone. Tell them to put me back in my old room." Dean headed towards the door, before he felt Castiel's hand on his shoulder. He turned, body facing Castiel, still not able to look at him.

"Dean. Look at me, Dean." Dean still didn't dare to even so much as glance. "Now, Dean." Castiel spoke, voice firm. Dean finally looked at the slightly shorter man before him. "I don't think you're crazy." Dean's breath hitched. "Now you can go tell Dr. Singer or Charlie or whoever that you want your room back, but I want you to stay. The choice is yours, Dean."

Cas let go of him, turning to head back toward his bed. Dean caught Cas' hand in his own and pulled him closer, their noses almost touching. "You're the first one to ever tell me I'm not crazy." Cas immediately tensed up. "Everyone here who knows either tries to diagnose me or looks at me like I could snap at any moment, but..." Dean moved to take Castiel's other hand in his own "But not you." His voiced dropped to barely a whisper as he searched Castiel's eyes for an answer.

Dean inched his face slightly closer when a knock came at the door causing to two men to jump apart. "Castiel?" Charlie's face poked in through the door, seeing the two men standing in the middle of the room, both blushing slightly. "….uh…. did you forget? You have an appointment with your counselor, don't want to miss it…"

Castiel shifted on his feet awkwardly, "Thank you, Charlie. I apologize I completely forgot it."

"I see… you better hurry then." She pulled the door to a close.

"Well… I uh… better get going…" Castiel faced Dean once more.

Dean reached for his hand once again, holding in it both of his, "After your session, would you like to go to the day room with me? I could play the piano for you." Dean smiled at him, brighter than he had in months.

Castiel's voice was barely a whisper, "I'd love to."


End file.
